


Different

by Acinne



Category: Fandomless
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, Past Character Death, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6033754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acinne/pseuds/Acinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different

**Author's Note:**

> Save him

It's different, he can't help but think. His own hand hovers over the side of his head he stares at himself in the mirror. The scars are always there, he's used to them. After all, it has been years yet they never seem to really go away. He doesn't know whether they are old and haven't healed or are still new, but knows for certain that he can't find out. 

A woman had told him they made him unique. Mei already knows that he's different in a horrible way and still remembers the way he lashed out at her - strangled her in her own bed, under her own sheets. He remembers the way she grabbed the empty beer bottle and broke it against his head, leaving a small scar right beside his eye. 

A doctor had told him to take care of himself. Didn't he always do that? Looking down at his broken arm, he couldn't help but let out a defeated sigh. He was careful with himself but his Father on the other hand wasn't. Perhaps he loved him in some twisted way and that was how he showed it. A shiver runs across Mei's whole body upon remembering the other ways he showed his love. 

Hand now moving to hover over the scar running horizontally over his nose, he grimaces. It's one of the oldest, that much he is sure of but can't remember no matter how much he tries. He doesn't know why, but someone in his mind tells him that he doesn't need to know. 

The next scar he glances at is the one across his mouth. He remembers that it used to hurt when he ate while it was still fresh, as well as the reason for its existence - he didn't want to eat. Now, he eats whenever he's told and has no complains. Sometimes he even buys his own food that he cooks. 

He turns his hand over and holds it in front of him. His eyes narrow when the painful flashbacks flood his mind, and he can't help but bite his lips in anxiety. Mei had overcooked his Father's meal after getting distracted, disassociating. He was quickly brought into reality when his wrist was roughly held, hand placed on top of the hot plate. 

It was the first time someone else took control of his body. He didn't know how or why, but he found himself in the corner of his mind, unable to do anything except watch the way his body hunched forwards, laughing, asking for more, taunting his Father to do his worst. 

Mei was suddenly afraid of himself. 

Taezu, he came to call him - still calls him. His first name had been fitting, considering no one called him that anymore. Taezu was, and still is, very loud and aggressive. He easily gets bored and never fronts unless there is something interesting or painful happening. He makes killing people easy. 

Mei can't help but think that he's being protected by him but sometimes Taezu is the one pushes him over the edge, makes him hurt himself. Makes him realize how worthless he is, that he has no reason to live other than following his Father's orders, that he'll never be free. 

Those scars are the ones Mei is truly ashamed of. 

He stopped trying to escape more than ten years ago after realizing that the consequences weren't worth it. The first time only came with a warning, along with painful bruises across his face. The second time was followed by broken bones and more bruises. The third time he managed to make it to the city, but was followed by agents sent by his father into an alley. 

There was no fourth time. 

Mei knows that he is broken, filthy, disgusting. He knows there is no salvation, yet isn't allowed death. He knows that he is too afraid to try, afraid that his Father might somehow find out like he always did and punish him. 

It's not worth it, he shakes his head, trying to calm his thoughts. Sabishi, another fragment of his past self always begs for release. Sabishi doesn't like pain. Sabishi likes it when people are nice to him. 

Taezu and Sabishi don't like each other. They ignore the others who aren't strong enough to take control. 

With a sigh, Mei puts his shirt back on, buttoning it all the way up, no longer being able to stare at his scarred and bruised body. 

He is Mei. 

His name is Mei. 

His Father calls him that. 

He lives to serve his Father. 

His Father is a nice man. 

He loves his Father. 

A crash is heard throughout the small bathroom and before he realizes it, the glass from the broken mirror is cutting deep into his hand. He can see the blood slowly drip into the sink, feeling his stomach twist in disgust. Taezu is laughing. Sabishi is terrified. Everyone else is quiet. Mei can finally hear his own thoughts. 

He hates them all. 

He hates his Father. 

He hates himself.


End file.
